I Don't Know Why You Say Goodbye, I Say Hello

The finish line of my journey in Italy has almost arrived. It's hard to believe that I've actually been here for nine months now, and I can't believe that the hourglass is almost up. I made it. I remember how excited I was when booking my flight over here, and how nervous I was when I entered the Italian Embassy for my interview in regards to my Working Holiday Visa. I remember how strange it felt to pack, and wondering to myself how I was expected to fill my entire life with two suitcases. At that time I was young, naive, and unprepared for everything that was about to happen.
I know that with every changing date comes a new opportunity in life whether it be romantically, work related, self related, or language related. You learn something new every day, and the truth is that you don't have to travel halfway across the world in order to "find" yourself. 
But that's kind of what this year has been for me. Not so much as finding myself, but more so creating myself. I've discovered that I can push boundaries, climb mountains (or ski on them), and do anything in the world if I want it badly enough. I've learned that the sky is the limit, and if you want to do something in life, for God's sake... Just do it. Your memory, sense of direction and strong legs may not last forever. There was never a single day here in Rome where I did not venture about, practice my Italian, and ask questions. Being curious is one of the best things that a person can be, and I feel that I fully took advantage of my time spent here. There are still things on my European bucket list that I haven't been able to cross off, but you know what? There were also a lot of really incredible things that I did that weren't on the list before. And besides... There's still plenty of time to do everything else. So even though I never got to go sailing in Greece or see Auschwitz in Poland, I'm still young, healthy, and have an open mind. I'll do it one day, and you better believe that whether it be two years from now or forty, it's going to happen.
It's funny, because even as I'm beginning to neatly fold my candy coloured clothes and pack away my souvenirs and novels into my suitcases, it really doesn't feel like it's really goodbye. I have grown so comfortable here that, not to be cliche, I know I will return (whether it be during a summer off from university, on my honeymoon, on a journalism assignment or for another year to simply travel and enjoy myself). I've grown not only to be comfortable in Italy, but also with the people I've met. Saying goodbye and telling everyone how thankful I am that they have been a part of my life will absolutely pose a new challenge for me, but I sincerely hope that I can continue on with some of the friendships that I've made here. Long distance isn't easy, but nothing worth it ever is. Besides... We live in a time where cell phones, Facebook and Skype make it easy to keep in touch. I suppose I'm a little more old fashioned, though. There's no greater surprise than opening up the mailbox or digging through a pile of envelopes to find a shiny new postcard or unfamiliar stamp on an envelope that covets a handwritten letter. Technology has made friendship convenient, but the post office reminds me that once upon a time, a person had to actually put thought and time into telling someone that they loved you rather than writing it on your wall.
It's hard to update you all while I'm in the midst of this new milestone in my life, but after some careful consideration, I have decided to also say goodbye to the University of Life. It's really hard to say something when you know it's going to change so much, but as the traditional break up speech goes, "It's not you... It's me." I don't feel as though it would be right to continue writing about the pursuit of happiness and the power of doing something that scares you once I arrive back in Canada. This blog wasn't intended for my adventures after Italy, and when it began, I had no idea when I would put an end to it. I also did not expect for it to become so popular or realize how many people would faithfully follow and listen to what I had to say. But now, it feels like the right time to leave things off on a good note and let it go.
It's almost time for me to go home now, and I'm going to spend my summer reuniting with the people I love most in the world while making new memories, working, canoeing, celebrating my 19th birthday, and continuing to practice my Italian. I will be publishing articles in my local paper so that I can, as my favourite Norwegian put it, "hone my craft." Hopefully dancing on the beach with good friends around a bonfire with drinks in our hands will also be involved (and if the stars align and the odds fall in my favour, then maybe even a summer romance with a certain someone from home who I kind of sort of have my eye on). 
However, with endings come new beginnings, and for the summer, I have some catching up to do. 
I want to thank everyone who I've met over the past 9 months who has changed my life in some point or another by making me think, feel, and see things in a light I never knew existed. Thank you to the people who have danced with me, the people who have ran through traffic with me, and most importantly, those who have shared their pizza with me. The support and encouragement I got from you all has been overwhelming through not just the University of Life, but through my trek as a lone traveler in beautiful Italy. This was my first real writing project and I had the time of my life sharing my journey with you. I hope you found yourself agreeing, disagreeing, and questioning your own life by reading this blog. I know I learned a thing or two.
The ride on the road untraveled has been a blast, and I'm so thankful for everyone who read my work and got lost with me along the way.

Things I Learned In Italy

One thing I really noticed while reflecting on my last few days here is that I truly got accustomed to city life. I know how to dodge pedestrians and have gotten used to waiting forever in traffic due to the millions of cars littering the streets of Rome. I got used to falling asleep to my Sicilian neighbors talking loudly, people laughing and cheering from the nearby bars, and the occasional roar of a police car. These sounds became my lullaby. 
The other day someone asked me where I prefer living - Italy or Canada. There's pros and cons to both countries, and every time I want to say one, the other immediately throws itself into my memory and causes me to reminisce on how much I love them, too. It's hard to say because they're both so different. The history and art attracts me to Italy, and I love that houses were built in a time where having character mattered. I almost like the weather better too, because I love the heat, but my favourite season is fall, which Rome really

misses out on. The lifestyles are polar opposites, though. I like that Italians
are more laid back to the point where they take midday naps, have a three hour lunch break with a glass of wine, and so forth. 
All in all, I love both countries. But Canada is my home. It's safe, affordable (minus tuition), offers a good education, health care, has a respectable reputation worldwide, has beautiful scenery, is perfect for nature lovers, and just so happens to be where I grew up. We also have an endless supply of maple syrup. I love Canada. I don't think that I ever see myself 

settling down in Italy forever, but it would be nice to go back for another extended period of time. I think it would be great when I'm older to rent a country home in Tuscany for a year or so to focus on writing and spend my days practicing Italian, learning how to be a better cook, riding my bike through the vineyards, and reading every book a person would ever want to read in their lifetime.
In honour of my last week here in Italy, I decided to compile a list of just 50 things I learned while here that are too good to keep to myself. I learned a lot from my time here and will continue to continue learning during the next seven days and beyond, but I thought it would be something for you all to think about. I hope you laugh, agree, and take something from this list. Enjoy!

• When an Italian grandmother (nonna) asks you if you want more food, the answer is never "no," even if you feel like your stomach is about to burst open. You will a) completely offend the woman and b) she will just put more food on your plate anyway.
• The most important Italian saying is "mange bene," which literally translates to "eat good." This is said when reminding one to have good table manners, but also to finish everything laid out in front of you.
• 15 degree temperature is still considered fur coat weather in Italy.
• Time really does fly when you're having fun.
• If you want something done, you have to do it yourself.
• When one door closes, another door opens.
• Your eyes are bigger than your stomach.
• Spritz is the best summer drink (with aperol - not Campari!)
• Canadians don't ride their bikes nearly as much as we should.
• Don't judge anyone based on what they were like in high school. Chances are, they've changed drastically since then. Haven't you?
• The best roads to take are the ones untraveled.
• Walking on the sidewalk does not necessarily mean that you won't be hit by a car.
• The best pubs in the world are the ones with an Irish flag waving outside.
• Do what makes you happy.
• If someone is rude to you, don't strike back. It's not worth your time or energy.
• You see one's true colours upon dealing with a rainy day, tangled Christmas tree lights, and lost luggage.
• Enjoying fresh figs and lemons from gardens in Tuscany at midnight makes for great memories in the morning.
• Pick your battles 
• Overuse "I love you." You never know when it'll be the last time you say it to someone.
• There is nothing wrong with spending a day in a patch of sunlight reading your favourite book by your favourite fountain in your favourite garden.
• Don't let fear get in the way of a life experience.
• Danish people have the biggest hearts in the world.
• Always trust your intuition. It could save your life.
• Don't worry about pleasing everyone. When you want to say "no" instead of "yes", do it.
• Always set the bar higher than you thought you could jump.
• 99% of people need to use olive oil more regularly.
• Nutella is what heaven tastes like.
• There is no turmoil that can't be lightened when eating pizza margarita.
• Getting mail (you know - in the mailbox) is much better than getting an e-mail.
• You cannot cross the same river twice.
• Saying, "It's my birthday!" to bartenders and waiters pays off. It's just a white lie - eventually it will be my birthday.
• Canada really needs a cheap airline like Ryanair or EasyJet. Entrepreneurs? Anyone? Eh?
• Amsterdam is the coolest city on the face of the earth.
• No matter what kind of relationship you have with your parents, you'll miss them when you move out.
• Rooftops are a perfectly comfortable place to sleep.
• Never underestimate the level of coolness in an Irish priest.
• Always, always, always be yourself. You can't please everyone, so you might as well just do what you want in life.
• In Rome, do as the Romans do.

Pompei & Naples

Oh, what a weekend I've had... On Saturday morning, my sister and I went to the main train station in Rome and went to Napoli, which was a two hour ride just south of Rome. We immediately went to the ticket station in order to catch the bus to Pompei, which is where we had planned to tour the ancient ruins. The weather was absolutely beautiful - almost 30 degrees with sun, sun, sun, making the emergency umbrella in my purse a menace. We met this nice American couple who were on vacation in Italy, and Pompei was their last stop before flying back to Iowa from the Fiumincino airport. We struck up a conversation with them, and luckily for us, they took us under their wing and we all stuck together. If it weren't for them, navigating around the trains and booths would have been much more stressful. It was also more comforting knowing that it looked like we were traveling with "mom and dad" instead of just as a pair.

Pompei was a resort town in the Roman Empire, located just a half hour south of Naples on the western coast of Italy. Many wealthy Romans at the time had "country homes" there, which they visited during their time off and especially during the summers, where Rome was to hot to bear with its crowds of people. In its prime, the city of Pompei had a population of nearly 20,000 people. Unfortunately, this part of Italy happens to be a highly active volcanic area, and August 24, 79 A.D proved it so. The entire city was buried by the eruption of nearby Mount Vesuvius. While most people fled the eruption immediately, approximately 2,000 people opted to stay and were buried in the eruption along with the city. Most people died from a blast of poisonous gasses. The eruption lasted for nearly a day, the end result being Pompei buried under some 25 feet of volcanic material, and Herculaneum (Pompei's neighbor to the north) with as much as 65 feet. After the eruption, the only savings from these two cities came from the memories of those who once summered there. Both Pompei and Herculaneum remained undiscovered until the 1700's, although it wasn't until the mid 1800's that careful recording of discoveries began. The lapilli and ash had done an amazing job of preserving the city, allowing people to visit and explore the ruins today.

We spent approximately three hours inside, and when it was time to go, we met these two Canadian guys who were also waiting for the train back to Naples. 

When we arrived back to the train station, we agreed to walk around for a bit and experience real Neapolitan pizza, something that my taste buds were begging me to do.
This is the thing about pizza from Naples... It's the best you will ever have in your entire life. Period. There is no place in the world but this, and no pizzeria that comes from outside of this city that can make a more delicious pie. Then there's the famous pizzeria Da Michele, which is quite possibly the most famous pizzeria in the world. As heartbreaking as it is, the shop is closed on Saturday's, so we did not get to experience the pizza that had Elizabeth Gilbert in tears and that Oprah Winfrey bragged about forever. You must understand in order to truly grasp the importance of the pizza in Naples is that it was invented there, so even history tells us that they're doing it right.

The reasons vary as to why Neapolitan pizza is so delicious, and I have narrowed down the top five reasons as to why it can't be beat.
1. The history.
2. The secret recipes that have been passed down to each generation.
3. The tradition of Italian food itself, and taking time to make something the right way.
4. The coffin wood that fuels the burning ovens.
5. The fresh ingredients.
We walked just outside of the train station for a bit, where we gained a true sense of the city. Being there made me so thankful that I had chosen Rome as my humble abode for the past year. I remember having a conversation with one of my neighbours who once explained to me that her and her family originally came from Naples, but that they had moved to Rome because it was safer. There were cars roaring, beeping, honking and running each other over this way and that. 

My Experience At The Opera

Today, my job required me to accompany my nine year old on a school field trip to the opera! 
The opera house we went to is located close to via Nazionale, a notorious street in Rome. It had a red carpet outside that led to the beautiful theatre that was decorated with red velvet and gold details. There were floor seats, two public balconies, and a series of private balconies. A grand piano was sectioned off in the corner, and a massive stage with blonde wood that stood proudly at the front. The opera lasted for approximately two hours, and was based on Mozart's famous ballads. I was pleased with myself for being able to recognize some of the songs, thanks to my host mom who likes to play classical music through our floor (by "our" foor I mean the second living room/library, the parents bedroom, and mine). I also got to see the house where Mozart was born during my Christmas trip in Salzburg, so the opera for me was very special.
The people in the opera were so beautiful and wore the most intricate layered clothes that I've seen in a long time, and it inspired me to make sure I do something when I get home... When I was younger, one of my favourite things to do after school and during the summertime was to run over to my friend Shayna's house with my sister Nicole and explore through her many dress up boxes that were stored in her mom's art studio. The three of us would try on all the crazy outfits that came from only God knows where, and made scenarios and created plays. Our most famous "play" was called Murder On Vimy Road, that was a chilling play about... well... a murder on our street that was plotted in order to seek revenge on the most beautiful daughter in the Cornellius household. Most of our creations were recorded on our video camera, which means that unfortunately for me, I have a lot to fear for when my wedding day comes and my parents reveal to my husband, in laws and friends what a wild child I truly was.
Anyway, Nicole and I were inspired of Shayna's treasures of vintage clothing, so we began our own dress up box. One box became two, and two became three, and now we have a large collection of funky clothing that used to be my mom's clothes (some dating as far back to the 70's), bought from thrift stores, and even our own old clothes. The trunks are now filled with fun vests, big skirts, and just about anything that you could imagine in a dress up box. Black dresses with fishnet arms, long white gloves, tops with way too many sequins, crazy hats, corsets, and scarfs. But some of the clothes in there that were just for fun are actually cool now.
Of course I'm not going to start a new trend of wearing the white silk gloves that look like the ones Audrey Hepburn wore in Breakfast at Tiffany's, but if I piece things right and use my scissors wisely, I think I might find some new things to add to my wardrobe without having to spend any money. I've been talking quite a bit with my soon-to-be roommate Becca about things we both want to do in Halifax. She told me she loves vintage clothing, and that she'd love to dig through some vintage stores in the city. I'm so excited, because everyone knows that people who love vintage are effortlessly cool, and have a good eye for the fine things in life.
Tonight my sister is coming over to watch Erin Brockovich on the big screen upstairs, and then tomorrow we're taking off to the train station to spend the morning in Naples, and the afternoon in Pompei. We really want to take the train to Pompei, but in order to get there, we first have to stop in Naples. You know that saying, "All roads lead to Rome"? Not true. Because Pompei doesn't.

The 5 Friends Every Woman Should Have

I consider myself to be a fairly lucky person, because I have a wide circle of friends whom I adore more than anything in the world. I don't know what I would do or who I would be without them.
All friendships have their ups and downs. Some friendships last for a couple seasons, some last for a few years, and some last a lifetime. Some still love you even after you accidentally break their mom's favourite lamp, while other's flee when times get tough. I think its only natural for people to have friends in their life come and go, but it always stings when a friendship is over. Most of the time, it happens over the course of a person's life, rather than an argument. But when a friendship does end over something serious, it can be really difficult to get over. Bob Marley once said, "Truth is, everyone is going to hurt you. You just have to find the ones worth suffering for."
It sounds simple, but tell your friends you love them. When you do something wrong that hurts their feelings or insults their character, apologize. It can be hard, but anyone reading my blog is old enough to know that the things that matter in life are usually never easy.
In high school, I couldn't see past the next semester. I was too young to think seriously about my future, and I was oblivious enough to think that the people I ate lunch with at the cafeteria every day would be the same people I'd be inviting to my wedding. I have a close handful of people who I have and will be friends with until the day I die, but there's a lot of people I was friends with in high school who I never in a million years would've thought that I wouldn't talk to after graduating. But, of course, it happened. And the funny thing is that I can't even tell you why.
I know that deep down I'm a loyal, honest, and truth worthy friend. Have I always been? No. Will I always be in the future? All I can say is that I will sincerely try my best. But if you happen to be the one who needs to apologize in order to begin rebuilding the bridge, then do it. It's never too late to come out and say "I'm sorry." If you miss someone you used to be close with, pick up the phone and call them. It's never too late.
Thinking about how fortunate I am to have the friends I have in my life encouraged me to write this post and list the five types of people that I believe every woman needs to have in her life. 

The Party Girl:
Every woman needs a friend like this in their life. She's the one who, even at your craziest, makes you look sane compared to herself. She's fun will motivate you to get out of your sweats and off the couch after calling you to invite you out to the bar this weekend. When you get dumped, she's the one who will refuse to let you wallow in a carton of mint chocolate chip ice cream with a side of sadness by going shopping with you for a hot new dress and take you out and volunteer you to do body shots at the bar (cough cough... Emily Kalynuik). It's important to have a friend like this in your life who you can totally let loose with and not worry about anything but having a good time. Cheers to her!
The Cheerleader:
When I say cheerleader, I don't actually mean that this kind of friend needs to know how to do the splits or have an excessive amount of school spirit. This friend can also be known as The Motivator, or basically, the one who always wants you to succeed. I know what you're thinking - shouldn't every friend I have want me to succeed? Of course, but The Cheerleader is different. This isn't the friend who simply texts you good luck before a basketball game, but the one who will actually be there to watch you while wearing your team colours or an extra jersey. Upon hearing that you want to get in shape by taking a zumba class she doesn't just say, "Good for you," but she will actually volunteer to join you and make it a ritual to go for a morning jog together every Sunday. And when you have a major test coming up, she's the friend who will help you study in your dorm room with colour coded flash cards. She's the one who sees you at your best and at your worst, and stays by your side no matter what kind of day you're having. She's awesome.
The Honest One:

Ahh, the honest one... This friend is the one who is always honest with you, even if it hurts your feelings. This friend will tell you the truth to the worst questions that brew in the back of your mind. She's logical, and you can tell her anything, because you know that she's going to serve up a hot dish of honesty and fill your plate with it. Sorry. That was a weird thing to say, even for me.
The One You've Known Forever:
This is the kind of friend who you'll never be able to get rid of, even if you wanted to. She might be your sister, or maybe you met in kindergarten. Whatever the relation, you've known her since you had braces, and she isn't going anywhere. The nice thing about this friend is that one minute you could be engaged in a heated argument, and the next, you're going to the movies together. Even if you get into a fight that lasts longer than a week, when something goes wrong, you know that you can call her anyway, and she'll talk to you as though the fight never happened. She's always there for you no matter what, because there's no point in trying to break away from this friendship - there's too many embarrassing pictures of you together in your diapers to throw all your memories away.
The Boy:
This kind of friend is unlike any other. When you want to hangout and do nothing, he's all for it. 
All of these friends, despite their most notable titles, should have all of these other qualities as well. It's important to be well rounded and be able to be there for your friend in their time of sadness even if all you want to do is channel your inner Ke$ha. Every friend should be fun, cheer you on when you want to do something important, let you cry on their shoulder, and make you laugh when you need it the most. This post is for all of the friends who are in my life today (you know who you are!), and a tribute to the ones I have yet to meet.

Oh, The Places You'll Go

I love what I do, and I think I'm good at it.
I started this blog for my family and friends to conveniently update them all at the same time on my adventures in Italy. It was also for my own pure enjoyment, and to craft my skills as a

writer. I ended up getting much more viewers than originally expected, and a lot more praise than I ever though I deserved. I have to admit that there are some things I've wrote on this blog that I thought was pushing the envelope and have regretted, but I've learned my lessons.
The truth is that even though I'm an amature writer and am still young, I've learned a lot of very important lessons in my life, one of which I want to pass along to you reader's. Everyone has bad days and deals with negative criticism at some point in their life, and it's important that you don't take everything to heart. I love what I do and I think I'm really going somewhere with my writing. Of course I love that I have a wide audience and am glad that the majority of people are enjoying it, but there is always the odd person who disagrees with what I have to say. And that's ok - it's a part of life. But as the very wise Ellen DeGeneres said upon the backlash comments from One Million Moms against her position as the spokesperson of JC Penny for being a lesbian, "My haters are my motivators." I don't like to say that I have "hater's", because I think that's ridiculous. I remember my sister once said, "If you're not famous, you don't have hater's. People just don't like you." But you get the just of what I'm saying.
No matter what your talent is, what you look like or what type of person you are, there is always going to be someone out there who doesn't like it (whether it be your singing, your freckles or your loud laugh). This is what I want to pass on to you all... As long as you're happy and confident in whatever it is that people are criticizing, let it roll off your back. Unless it's constructive criticism and you can genuinely learn from it, it's not important. Reflecting on this made me seek some words of wisdom from a friend of mine, Eddie, who is a professional journalist. With his permission, I am carrying on his lesson to you in hopes that it teaches you what it taught me and will reread this message whenever I need a confidence boost or a good laugh:

"You have an open mind and a thick skin. While there might be 5 people that like your work, there will be 1 that won't. That's fine. You can't win them all. It's like how I think Nickelback sucks yet they still have legions of fans all around the world....and they keep making music!

It's all subjective. It's easy to say don't sweat it. But put it in this light: critics aren't spending their every waking hour thinking about you/your work, so you shouldn't do the same about

them. It's hard at first not to take it to heart. The first negative feedback will always sting. But it shouldn't matter. It's mind over matter. You don't mind that they don't matter!
What doesn't kill you make you stronger. Stand a little taller......damn you Kelly Clarkson song!"
What I want everyone reading to know is this... You can be the funniest person in the school, and there will be at least one person who thinks you're boring. You could have the most beautiful face in the entire world and be on the cover of Vogue, and someone will find a flaw. You could be the greatest writer in the entire world and sell a million copies and stay on the #1 New York Times Best Sellers list for weeks, and someone will think that you suck. But I've noticed that whenever I try to please other people, I end up unhappy. And that isn't fair. No matter what you do in life or who you are, there's always going to be someone you doesn't like you, so you might as well just be yourself. Being different and an individual is something to celebrate. As the great Dr. Suess once said, "Today you are You, that is truer than true. There is no one alive who is Youer than You." Remember that quote the next time someone tries to bring you down, and remember that no one becomes successful or genuinely happy in life by trying to copy someone else or by being average.

Anne Frank Huis: My Experience

In my last post, I told you all about my trip to Amsterdam. We all know that the city is famous for its liberal way of life, blooming tulips, winding canals, and so on. But there is something else that I did not speak about in my last blog post because what I have to talk about is far more significant than anything else I did on my vacation, and I felt that it would be inappropriate to include it alongside my details of the Red Light District and coffee shops. There is something much deeper and darker that looms within the city that cannot be missed when visiting Amsterdam. What I want to talk about is my experience inside the Anne Frank House.

I am fortunate to have been raised in a generation where Holocaust survivors are still alive and possess a memory vivid enough to share their stories. But by the time I have children who are old enough to understand the Holocaust, there will be no survivors left to speak with them. I am thankful to have had this experience on more than one occasion.

This is why novels like Night by Elie Wisel, Man’s Search For Meaning by Victor Frankl and The Diary of Anne Frank are so important. These books have and will continue to educate the world on one of the most horrendous crimes of our time.

The Anne Frank House, also known as The Annex House, looks like an ordinary house, aside from the line of tourists that stretch outside. Inside, photos are strictly forbidden, because the flash could disturb those in the house experiencing a moment of silence and damage the fragile photographs and scribes of paper. Visiting the house was the most powerful moment in my life, and one that I will share with my children not through photos, but through memory. I met up with my Dutch friend Sanne, and even though we were together, there was hardly anything that either of us could say. It was mostly silent through the house except for the creaking of the floorboards beneath our feet and the occasional comments from tourists. The most meaningful thing anyone said that I overheard was, "Why?" A simple question, but one that we all want to know the answer to. 

The museum begins with a short film on the Anne, and then a tour of the house itself. There are no guides due to the size of the building, and like I said earlier, it is best to keep quiet while inside.
The house itself was larger than I imagined, yet at the same time, smaller when I thought about the amount of people being hid inside. There was something so strange about being in a place that I had read about and studied years prior to actually visiting. It was so special to me and something I will carry with me forever. No description will do justice to how a person feels upon standing in the actual bedroom that Anne had called "home" for two years.

For those of you who don't know, The Diary of Anne Frank is a nonfiction account of a young girl whose childhood, and ultimately life, is robbed by Nazi Germany. Her diary documents her feelings of anger and questions towards World War II, and throughout the course of the diary, we see Anne transform from a disoriented girl to a mature and brave young woman. Unfortunately, someone exposes the Frank’s secret in their hiding where they are then exiled to Auschwitz, the largest concentration camp during the war located in southern Poland. It was here that everyone in the Frank family dies, except for Anne’s father, Otto, who first published the novel in 1947. It is still unknown as to who exposed their secret, and will most likely remain a mystery until the end of time.

Visiting the Annex house allows its visitors to gain a true sense of Anne’s story, and the 6 million Jews who had their families, lives and voices taken away out of simple discrimination. The house of Anne Frank reminds its visitors of the importance of remembrance, and that no matter how tragic some events in history were, it is essential to carry on their lessons. It was, and will probably remain, the most powerful moment in my life. Anne's dream was to become a famous author, and her wish came true thanks to the survival of her father. It is now our responsibility to carry on her story and reflect on the importance of remembrance.

For more information on the Anne Frank house, please visit the museum's website below:

http://www.annefrank.org/ 

Adventures In Wonderland (a.k.a Amsterdam)

Amsterdam is fun, Amsterdam is good. Not everybody goes there, but everybody should. It was inspiring. It was beautiful. It was a really far out happin' place, man.
How do I even begin to describe Amsterdam? I could answer this question by quoting Mean Girls, beginning with the fact that Amsterdam is flawless. There is nothing that a person could desire in life that is not found in this fantastical land. I have been anticipating writing this blog post for several days now, and I'm so excited to tell you all about my trip.
On Wednesday morning, I arrived at the Eindhoven airport, which is approximately two hours away from the city of Amsterdam. The reason why I didn't fly directly into Amsterdam was because it was more expensive, and so from the airport, I took a bus which allowed me to enjoy a journey where I was able to pass through Holland's countryside. Eindhoven was great because it allowed me to enjoy the beautiful views of tulip gardens, windmills and farmer's. Not only did I get to see a part of Holland that many people ignore when visiting the country, but it was also cheaper. I arrived in the actual city at 10 am, and words can not properly describe what I felt upon stepping off the bus and into the city of Dixie bikes and canals. My friend Shayna who visited Amsterdam in April of 2011 described Holland as, "The land of tulips, tall people, and all things legal. You can get away with just about anything, except maybe for murder."
Amsterdam was a breath of fresh air (literally). I was immediately mesmerized by it, and I was like a kid in a candy store. Its kind of hard to describe, but if you believe in past lives, something inside of me kind of clicked. I knew my way around immediately, and it was almost as though I'd been there before. What did I want to do first? The question gave me a rush of excitement that I could not handle. I decided to go to my hostel first called The White Tulip, located in the Damrak area where I checked in and locked my bag in the storage. Then I introduced myself to my roommates, grabbed my purse, my map, and headed out into the unknown.
The first place I wanted to visit was The Anne Frank house, something that has been on my bucket list since I ever even knew what a bucket list was. 
During my entire vacation, I almost felt like a local, because I definitely blended well. While being here, I realized that I do not have enough orange clothes in my closet. Normally, orange doesn't work for me (I'm a summer), but orange is the colour of Holland because it's the Queen's favourite colour.
Every April 30th, the entire country celebrates her birthday (Queen's Day) and dresses up in orange. Knowing this, I knew it would be foolish for me to leave the country without sporting something orange. 
On my last day in the city, Chris and the other boys who stayed in his hostel all wanted to visit the zoo, and so I tagged along with them. It wasn't different from any other zoo, but it was a great day and a nice way to spend my last moments in the city. It also happened to be one of the guys' birthday, so we went out to a nice Italian restaurant on the Damrak for dinner. I got a plate of gnocchi and ordered a vanilla sundae with chocolate fudge running down it's side like a skier on the Swiss Alps with whipped cream and slices of pear on top for dessert. It was the perfect meal to end my vacation. Other things happened during my time in Amsterdam that, as I mentioned before, are too inappropriate for me to document for the entire world to see, including a story involving a stripper and a banana. But let's not open that can of worms. That's all I can tell you about my time in wonderland, and I hope you enjoyed a little glimpse into my four day getaway.

London Calling

Samuel Johnson once said, "When a person is tired of London, they are tired of life." I could not agree more with this quote. And, by the way, I am so sorry to keep you all waiting! Here's the thing: my sister arrived in Rome last week and I was far too busy to sit down and organize my thoughts, especially while having to pack for my trip. I didn't mean to neglect you all, but now that I'm here, I'm ready to jump head first into a detailed description of one of the greatest cities in the entire world - London!
My sister and I went to the Ciampino airport last Saturday morning to catch our flight, which only took two hours. I forgot how much I love to fly. I seem to have this love-hate relationship with airports, because as cool as they are, they're also stressful.
We didn't have any problems whatsoever, but once we stepped off the plane, Nicole and I were whipped in the face with a cold wind. I prepared myself for it by layering up and packing an umbrella and pair of gloves. I suppose I really shouldn't be complaining. The weather wasn't that bad, but at 9 degrees, it felt like a far cry from Rome (when I came back last night, it was 30 degrees out!). It was really easy to navigate around the city because London has a fantastic transportation system. The buses and tube were easier than the instructions on the back of a Kraft Dinner box.
We stopped at London Bridge station where our hostel was located just down the street. It was an all female hostel called The Oasis which was part of a chain called St. Christopher's, where my friend Chris Madronich was staying. Him and I went to daycare together and have known each other for the majority of our lives. We spent the day doing a little sightseeing and catching up with each other. The great thing about hostels is that you meet people from every corner of the world and learn about other people's cultures, as well as sharing your own. There were a surprising amount of Canadians in London, and it really made me realize that even though Canada has a small population (compared to its geographical size), we're well traveled.
On the second day we went on a walking tour with a guide who I can only describe as "zany." This woman was originally from New Zealand and took us around the main sights of the city such as Buckingham Palace, the changing of the guards, Prince Charles and Camilla's home, and more. (Side note: It was from this tour guide that I learned that the British call rain boots "Wellies", due to their former Prime Minister Wellington who invented the rain boots). But during the tour, Nicole and I had to leave early because we had to meet up with Carlie Smith, a girl who I went to high school with. She's been a close friend of mine for the past several years, and, like me, she decided to travel and move overseas. She's been living in England, not too far from London, and will be for the next two years. We met right outside of the Parliament building where we also walked and saw views of the London Eye and Westminster Abbey. 
Seeing friends from home was great, and I was so happy to be able to explore a new place with old faces. During our entire trip, the weather was fairly decent, aside from a bit of rain on Wednesday. 

But with my umbrella featuring the British flag and candy coloured Wellies, I didn't even mind. We did a bit more touring around the city and went to a store called Primark which my friend Rhianne suggested and that Carlie described as "the Galleria Mall on drugs." It was a huge store that was packed tight with full of people who were all fighting over piles of insanely cheap clothing. I ended up buying a cool sweater with, once again, the British flag that was found in the men's section. I kept coming up with cool scenarios of myself wearing the sweater at university this upcoming fall. It's perfect for walking through the quad as orange coloured leaves crunch beneath my feet, or when I want to occupy myself by studying in the library. What scenario I didn't see coming was running into someone at the hostel who was wearing the same sweater - a guy who was in his early twenties. I was able to redeem myself by complimenting him. 
As my sister and I are avid Harry Potter fans, a must stop was the King's Cross station where we took pictures at Platform 9 3/4. Another stop we made was Abbey Road, the famous road where The Beatles crossed. Later on during the same day, we walked over to Shakespeare's Globe Theatre where Mr. William himself used to showcase his famous plays. Unfortunately, the original building is no longer there, but it was remodeled and is in the exact place of the first theatre. We spent most nights in the Chill Out room at the hostel with all the other travelers playing cards and drinking games.
On our final day in the city, my sister took a train to visit the WB Harry Potter studio where the films are shot, which gave me some time to wander around on my own. I visited a bakery close to the hostel where I bought a single $3 cupcake that was piled high with rich, sugary vanilla icing and had more calories than days I've lived. I almost went into a sugar coma afterwards, and it was worth every single bit. When my sister returned from her tour, we visited the Tate Modern Museum. One of my favourite things about the city is that the museums are free, offering its residents and citizens a price tag free experience through a gigantic building filled with impressive art.
London is a fantastic city where I was able to speak fluent English for the first time in eight months, see friendly faces, and witness some of the world's most notable landmarks and pieces of art.

Reporter's Without Borders

Someone asked me a great question the other day, and it was probably the best question that anyone's ever asked me in the history of my short life. "What do you want to do with your journalism degree?" Alas, I have yet to even begin the first of my four years that it takes to obtain my honours diploma, but it's never too early to start thinking about what you want in life.
I don't have an answer to that question, but rather, that I have many answers that could go along with it. I hope that whatever I do involves a lot of writing, which makes working for a magazine company sound like a great idea. I think I would do really well in something like Cosmopolitan magazine because I have an interest in everything that the magazine represents. 
Another path I might be interested in taking is writing for a travel magazine. Companies will 

actually hire journalists to be flown (or cruised) all over the world and write about their experience at certain resorts, beaches, and restaurants. I think being a resort critic would probably be one of the greatest jobs in the entire world. 
Then there's my dream of being a writer for a film or television production. I would love to sit around a table all day surrounded by intelligent and creative people while coming up with scripts and ideas for the latest season of a show like The Office. I think that I would be really good at it.
But there's something more than all of these ideas combined that I cannot get out of my head. My friend Shayna recently announced that she's considering moving to Prague to attend film school, where she can work on documentaries. Documentaries! What a fascinating job that would be. Could you imagine working for a company like National Geographic while exploring the rain forests in South America? Or traveling to the west coast of Australia to work on a story about a new species of squids? I think documentaries are the coolest.
My ideal job would be to sit down and talk to people and interview them while educating others. I like asking questions, getting answers, and picking people's brains. And I would want to uncover interesting subjects like cults, human trafficking, and drug wars. I don't think there's anything that a person couldn't do in their life if they were determined enough. There are plenty secrets to success, but this is what I think. There are billions of people in this world, and plenty of jobs that need to be done. Someone has to fight for justice, so why not you? Someone has to fight fires and rescue families from burning buildings, so why not you? And someone has to come up with new inventions to make the world a more innovative place, so why not you? Absolutely anything is possible, as long as you're willing to work hard for it. While luck may be on the side of some people, those who become true successes in today's world were not handed everything they have. If you're willing to work, you can be and do anything you want.

Once upon a time, my gender had the responsibility of finishing high school, then getting married, having children, and having a career that meant cooking and cleaning. Unfortunately, there are still some places and people in the world where this type of lifestyle still seizes. I want to take advantage of everything that those in the past sacrificed in order for me to have today. I can vote, drive a car, and have a career. I can do anything I want, and I refuse to be one of those people who waste their freedom by having low goals. No matter what kind of family you come from, what kind of neighborhood you were raised in, or how much money you have in your bank account, you can be anything.
I'm really lucky that I have so many people around me who are full of encouragement. My family was so proud of me when I got into the University of King's journalism program. My best friend Emily has collected every article I've ever had published and congratulates me every time one comes out in the local paper. And I have two gentlemen in my life who are professional journalist's who are always giving me advice, ideas and pep talks on writing and the field of journalism. And having you reader's follow my blog adds up to a wonderful support team that is just an extra push on my journey through the road to success. I'm lucky to have all of these people in my life, and it makes me not sad about those who used to be in my life who aren't anymore, because they're the ones missing out.
I want to make people laugh even when they're having a bad day. I want to educate people on issues that aren't commonly talked about by exposing them to the world. I want to make a difference by giving people a voice who have something to say. I want to talk to people like Erin Brockovich, Lisa Ling and Elizabeth Gilbert. I want to dive into the unknown and explore every corner of the world. I want to write novels that allow reader's to learn about a world that goes far beyond whatever city or country they grew up in. I want to make people think in different ways and see things in another perspective.
Someone has to do it, so why not me?

Beach Day

Summer has arrived! Well, at least it has in Italy! The weather is getting hotter than the new purse on display at Louis Vuitton and today was a whopping 27 degrees. So when Jeanny asked me if I wanted to spend the day at the beach with her, my immediate reaction was to pack my beach bag and head down to Ostia with her. Ostia is the beach in Rome that everyone flocks to between April and October, when the city is lingering with bus exhaust, millions of people, and humidity. Escaping to the sea was just what we needed, and apparently, hundreds of other people had the same idea.
This morning I grabbed the beach bag that came with the awesome purple bikini with the cool print I bought here in Rome with my beach towel, reusable bottle of water, and some fruit. Jeanny and I met up at the train station where we stopped by the market before hopping on the metro and bought some cookies and paninis (tomato and mozzarella for me, salami for her). Unfortunately, I was an idiot when I got dressed this morning, and paired a long sleeve white shirt with Daisy Dukes and black leggings underneath. Clearly, I had seriously underestimated today's weather forecast. I knew that if I had wanted to survive the stickiness of the metro where people are packed tighter than sardines in a can, then I would have to shed some layers. Of course, the bathrooms cost 50 cents in the train station, and being the penny pincher that I am, Jeanny and I found a semi private area in the train station where I stripped down to my bathing suit bottoms and got changed. I don't think anyone saw, but as soon as I was done getting dressed while doubling over in laughter, I stuffed my leggings in my purse and we headed off. This taught me a truly valuable lesson - you can't really call a person your best friend until they've helped you get dressed in a busy train station.
After the metro ride was over, Jeanny introduced me to this incredible gelato shop (and I mean incredible) that had really cheap prices and delicious flavours. On the way to the beach, I got blueberry and cotton candy. On the way back, I got watermelon and blueberry again. Although I've been super committed to my new workout regimen and healthy lifestyle I've been working on for the past couple of weeks, well... I hate to join the bandwagon as I seriously cannot stand this expression, but... YOITO. You're Only In Italy Once, right? Hopefully not once, but after June I don't know when I'll come back, and I feel responsible for enjoying this treat as often as I possibly can.
Jeanny and I decided to jump into the sea. Oh, did I say jump? What I meant to say was timidly tip toe into the beach's edge where we screamed at the frigidness of the water. It wasn't so terrible, though. After a while it felt better, and the further we went out, the less cold we were. It's April, and I've already been swimming! Hopefully this sunburn will fade soon, because I'm supposed to go to a picnic at Villa Pamphili tomorrow.
Villa Pamphili is my European oasis. I've spent the past several days here jogging and working out. The park is massive and is filled with these cool trees that look like the ones from The Lion King, and there are plenty of beautiful fountains to admire. Not only that, but there is also a beautiful pond with willow trees that is inhabited by swans and turtles. When Kelsey and I went for a jog together on Thursday morning, we literally saw dozens upon dozens of turtles there. Most of them were average sized, but we saw a bigger one with a pointed nose that had to be a snapping turtle, and a mini baby who we called Piccolo (Italian for small). 
I'm also hoping my sunburn fades soon because I have my trip to London next Saturday, and Amsterdam the following Wednesday. It feels like everything is coming up so soon, and time really does fly when you're having fun. I have so much to look forward to, and it's hard to believe that in a week, I'm going to visit two new countries I've never explored before.

Barefoot & Crazy

You know that scene in Home Alone where Kevin realizes that his parents left him in their giant king sized bed while they jet off to an exotic location for Christmas? That's exactly how I feel right now. And what a wonderful feeling it is! Since my kids go to the French school, they have holidays galore. Their last day of school was Friday, and they have a vacation that lasts over two whole weeks, giving me free time to do whatever I please in Rome until my trip to London and Amsterdam. The family left early this morning and I had yesterday off, so I feel more free than ever. 
When I woke up, the house was quiet. I could actually hear birds chirping instead of the loud 

Italian voices that are usually the soundtrack of my life here. No crying, no arguing, no conversation, niente. It was beautiful. Although au pairing has it's benefits, I seriously needed a break. I set the breakfast table up elaborately and took my sweet time starting the day. I had every kind of fruit and yogurt imaginable laid out in front of me with an Italian newspaper by my side (I can understand it now, by the way!). Then I asked myself my favourite question; What do you want to do today? The options were endless. I decided that I wanted to soak up some sun after last weeks constant rainfall. I wanted to read more of that book I bought while shopping in Florence.
I want to relax. And so I did. It's late afternoon now, and I've spent the whole day being lazy up on my rooftop. I tanned in the sun for a bit (with sunscreen, or course). I took a nap. I read a good chunk of my book. I leafed through my Amsterdam guidebook. I ate some fruit. And then, after several hours, I came back inside to observe the slight tan I got and grabbed my laptop, only to go back up to the rooftop and type a new blog post. I have never felt as free as I do right now. I can see nearly all of Campo dei Fiori, and the sun is hot hot hot. I'm relaxed and happy and I've never felt as good as I do right here, right now. 
Tonight, my friend Kelsey is coming over for a sleepover where we'll drink red wine, eat popcorn, share stories and watch a movie in the screening room. She's not coming over until after dinner, so I still have time to do whatever my little heart desires. Since I'm feeling so alive, I'm going to go burn some of this energy off by jogging towards Castel St. Angelo and then take an extended bath filled with scented candles, classical music, bubbles and champagne (why not start this party early, right?). Everyone should have a day like this once in a while. 
Tomorrow is also the one week mark until my sister flies to Rome. Life, as I know it, is so sweet right now. I hope everyone else is feeling the same way. May your night consist of good wine, good friends, and dancing barefoot on rooftops. 

The Road Untraveled

Lately, I've been getting a lot of e-mails and questions from students who went to my old high school, and other students in my hometown. Most of the people who have peppered me with questions are in the 10th and 11th grade and have told me that they've spent hours thinking about how confused they were about what classes to take that would ultimately lead them into the right universities for their chosen program. What does one do when they have to choose courses for the upcoming fall and doesn't know what to do? They book an appointment with their school guidance counsellor, of course.
I was fortunate to know that I wanted to study journalism since I was 13 years old, when an article I wrote about the rise of childhood obesity was published in my local newspaper. I got my fifteen minutes of fame, and I loved seeing my name in print. But more than that, I knew I had a passion for writing, and that I wouldn't be one of those people who had absolutely no idea what to do with their life. I was so lucky to know at such a young age what I wanted to do. My mom says that when I was a child, she caught me in her mirror while driving. My sister and I were both sitting in the backseat while she was beside me in my car seat. She was reading a book, and I was jealous. Anything she did, I had to follow suit. I, too, was trying to read a book, but was holding it upside down. Also, we had this nightly tradition for my mother to read to my sister and I before bed. We would crawl under the covers while my mom recited a few chapters of the latest Junie B. Jones novels or something else that we loved. As any parent wishes, my mom had wanted me to succeed in learning to read on my own. And I did learn - fast. And as soon as I learned how to read on my own, I took everything off the bookshelf and began reading on my own. I think I broke my mother's heart a little by ruining our tradition. 
While clicking on the "read" button on e-mails and ripping envelopes open to read the 

"Congratulations!" that loomed inside, I felt empty. Happy to be accepted and recognized for my talent and honor roll grades, but surprised at how little I cared. This says a lot, considering I am a person whose excitement of winning $3 on a lottery ticket is greater than the average person who wins the jackpot. I'm loud and full of emotion. So upon being accepted to each of the schools I applied to, I should've had a heart attack. This is how I knew that something was very wrong.
I've always had a knack for traveling. Don't be fooled, though - I come from a middle class family, and traveling throughout North America and Europe does not mean I have a Swiss bank account. All it means is that my passion for exploring the world is so great, that I was willing to save up money and actually do it. My first ever vacation was when I was five years old and in kindergarten. My mom picked my sister and I up from school, and as we were leaving the building, we ran into another student who lived next door. "Where are you guys going?" he asked. "Mexico!" my mom told him. I remember him not believing us, and it was then that I realized that Mexico must be somewhere far and special. But I was too young to understand much, even though I had seen suitcases scattered across the house filled with summery clothes and bathing suits.
Then I went on an exchange program in France for my second semester of grade 11. And after getting a taste of Europe, I knew I had wanted to return. And so instead of going to university, which I wasn't excited about, I did return. It began with a visit from one of my best friends Shayna. Shayna graduated the year before me, and had moved to Milan to work as an au pair and take a gap year. She encouraged me to do the same, and I opened up about my feelings about university. Then I slowly told everyone I knew what I had wanted to do, and the response was surprising. My family was all for it. My parents, my sister, grandparents, cousins, and everyone else with whom I shared blood had told me to go for it. And yet my friends rolled their eyes after telling them about my dreams. They told me that they didn't really think I would do it and that I was being totally irresponsible for not furthering my education.
I'm not really close with those people anymore, because our friendships changed. Or rather, I changed. I don't really know. While I don't disrespect them for taking the comfortable route by living at home with their parents and going to school in our area, I couldn't relate to people who had scrutinized me for wanting to do something different. And now, I am finding out that many of the people I knew from high school are switching their schools or programs because they weren't satisfied with what they got. Even those who are happy in their own situations have told me that they regret not doing what I did, because I did something unregrettable. Everyone talks about the dream of traveling through Europe after school, but how many people actually do it? I wanted to be one of the few people who chased after my dreams.
And so here I am in Rome, Italy. I made an appointment with the Italian Embassy in Toronto to obtain my travel visa that would allow me to stay overseas for over 3 months. I extended my health insurance. I booked my ticket. I found a job. I became an au pair, which is necessary for me to live somewhere rent free while still making money. I've been living here since September, and I don't regret it one bit.
I also found out from a couple people that one of my school's guidance councillors has continuously used me as an example when students come into her office and freak out about their futures. She tells them about me and what I did, and offers them my name and e-mail to speak with me over the Internet about my experience. I love it when people are interested in taking a gap year, and I encourage everyone to do it. Most people who are 18 years old do not know what they want to do with the rest of their lives. It's a huge decision, and at such a young age, you aren't exposed to the experiences you need in order to not have regrets. You've been sitting in a classroom for the majority of your existence with nothing but a two month break in between. But it is in my own personal belief and experience that a person becomes who they are upon solitude and travel. Everyone needs to do something that scares them.

Someone once asked me if I wanted to go to Europe to find myself. "I'm not going to find myself," I replied. "I'm going to create myself."
I know now who I am, what I want in life, what I don't want in life, and what kind of people I enjoy spending time with. I have transformed from a high school student to a mature young woman who wants to make her mark in the world through her writing, and who enjoys poking fun at herself and making other people laugh at her own expense. But even though I know who I am, I recognize that I am still so young, and have so much to learn. I can't wait to see where I'll go, who I'll meet, and what other lessons I'll learn throughout the course of my life. So far, I'm more than happy with it, all because I took a risk that turned out to be well worth it.
For anyone who isn't sure about pursuing their post-secondary education right away, here are some words of advice. School and home will always be there. The opportunity to hone your craft or learn about biochemistry in a classroom aren't going anywhere. But how often does the opportunity to travel through Europe and be young and free arise? If you feel prepared and satisfied with going to school right away, then congratulations. That's wonderful, and I'm sure that if you're satisfied with that, then you're making the right decision. But if you aren't, please don't waste your time or money or worries on something that you're not 100% sure about. As the brilliant Robert Frost once said, "A person will sometimes devote all his life to the development of one part of his body - the wishbone."
So what are you all waiting for? The world is a book, and those who do not travel only read one page. You only life once, and life is too short to be comfortable. For those of you reader's who are older and wish you had taken the plunge in your youth, there's still hope. Age is defined not by the number of birthday candles on your cake, but how old you think you are.

The Best News A Person Could Ever Receive

Today was the final day of Culture Week. I spent it with my Swedish friend Erika at Castel St. Angelo! I've been dying to go since I arrived in Rome, but knew that admission was expensive and that I could go in for free and April. And so I did. Or rather, we did. It's located at the opposite end of the Vatican and was designed between 123 and 129 A.D. The name comes from the legend of Saint Gregorio Magno, who had a dream about an angel appearing in the fortress who announced the end of the Plague. In 1500, the famous 

Italian artist Rafaello di Montelupo created a statue of he angel that is now on display in the Corile d'Onore. The castle was used as a prison for nearly three centuries. So as you can see... I had quite the day. In other news from Rome, yesterday was Rome's 2765th birthday! Like a fine wine, this city gets better with age.
Hmm... where to begin with my next piece of news? A new member is being introduced to the Pressé clan. A girl who goes to my old high school and I have each other on Facebook. This girl, whose name is Chanel, worked with my sister once upon a time, and she was also on the Italy trip when my school came to visit in March. My family has been hunting (not literally) for a puppy to hopefully adopt in June or July. Ideally, we wanted a golden retriever/yellow lab mix, but we weren't having any luck. No one we knew or contacted was breeding their golden/lab dogs, no one was advertising them, and we'd even been searching rescue homes. Niente (Italian for "nothing"). Well, I was browsing through my newsfeed when a picture of Chanel popped up of her holding what looked like a naked mole rat. When I clicked on the picture to make it bigger, it was a puppy! Could it be? I asked myself. Is this the one? 
I inquired about the mole rat puppy that was cradled in her arms, and it turns out that her boyfriend's parents had bred their yellow lab who just had puppies a couple weeks ago. I asked for the information, and was given the mother's phone number, who I passed along to my own mom. After their collaboration, her and my sister went to visit the home and... Wait for it... BOUGHT A PUPPY!!!
I can hardly contain my excitement, not that I'm even trying to. Because the litter of eight were just born, they still need to spend a couple months with their mom. When my mom asked what date they could be picked up, we were dropped with this tidbit that makes the whole situation so meant to be - June 6th. As in, the day I come home. Since we don't want to drag the poor thing all the way to the airport or bring him to my grandparents house for my homecoming dinner, we're picking up our little bundle of joy on Thursday afternoon after my haircut, where the two of us will play and bond in the backseat of a car.
Anyway, it's settled. My family and I have bought an adorable yellow lab puppy that I get to snuggle and spoil for it's entire life. 
Now, the real debate begins - what will we name him? Because, yes, he's a he. A him. A baby boy that I will sneak out of his crate and keep him tucked under my arms like a live teddy bear in the middle of the night. Right now, our family is at war between two names. Well, not really. It's more like my mom, sister and I against our dad. The three of us gal pals have already dubbed him as Sampson. It's cute, right? Sampson. It's full of cute nicknames that we've already started babying him with such as Samosa, Sir Sam-sa-lot, Sam-I-Am, Samsonite, Sammy, and so on. But a name I suggested during my parents trip to Italy was Lucca, which I half regret, because my dad claims that he doesn't like Sampson and that his name must be Lucca. I obviously like it too since I'm the genius who came up with it. It's Italian, so really, what's not to like? My issue is that there aren't as many nicknames to go with it.
My dad's argument is that he's the only guy in the house and that this dog will be his buddy, and he doesn't want to call it something girly. First of all, Sir, we also have a male cat in the house whose name is Boo Friend, so don't say you're the only male in the house. I even have a Siamese fighting fish named Kevin, although I'm unsure of the actual gender. 

Hungry?

A great friend of mine, Shayna, has inspired me. Shayna and I grew up next door to each other and have been friends since before I can even remember. She was an extra sister for Nicole and I to play with, and one of our favourite pastimes included seeking revenge on her older brother, Eli, for all the cruel things he did to her throughout childhood. Shayna is an artist who is easily one of the most humorous and creative people I know. She is also the friend of mine who previously worked for the family in Rome that I am currently with.
Anyway, Shayna recently began her own blog. It mostly consists of photographs from her time in Italy as well as recipes that she collected. I decided to post a recipe in my own in hopes that you are all taking my advice in trying new things. While browsing through one of the English cookbooks that was on the bookshelf, I came across the "Roasted Eggplant Lasagna" recipe which I thought was perfect, as it is Italian, healthy, and vegetarian. I promise that it's not as hard as it seems. 
Roasted Eggplant Lasagna:
Preparation time: 50 minutes. Baking time: 30 minutes. Serves 8.
Ingredients:

• 1 small eggplant
• 2 small zucchini
• 5 tomatoes
• 1 large sweet red pepper
• 1 large onion, cut into small wedges
• 1/4 cup olive oil
• 3 tablespoons of fresh basil, divided
• 3 garlic cloves, minced
• 3/4 teaspoon salt, divided
• 1/2 teaspoon pepper, divided
• 2/3 cup pitted Greek olives, chopped
• 1/4 cup butter, cubed
• 1/4 cup all-purpose flour
• 2 3/4 cups milk
• 1 bay leaf
• 1/8 teaspoon ground nutmeg
• 5 tablespoons of Parmesan cheese
• 2 tablespoons of Asiago cheese
• 3/4 cup of mozzarella cheese
• 6 lasagna noodles 

Directions:

• Cut eggplant, zucchini, tomatoes and red pepper into 1-in. pieces; place in a large bowl. Add onion, oil, 2 tablespoons basil, garlic, 1/2 teaspoon salt and 1/4 teaspoon pepper; toss. Transfer to two greased 15-in. x 10-in. x 1-in. baking pans. Bake at 450° for 20-25 minutes or until crisp-tender. Stir in olives.
• In a large saucepan, melt butter; stir in flour until smooth. Gradually stir in milk. Add bay leaf and nutmeg. Bring to a boil; cook and stir for 2 minutes or until thickened. Remove from heat. Stir in 3 tablespoons Parmesan, Asiago and remaining basil, salt and pepper. Discard bay leaf.
• Spread a fourth of the sauce in a greased 11-in. x 7-in. baking dish. Top with 2-1/3 cups vegetables, 1/4 cup mozzarella and three noodles. Repeat layers. Top with a fourth of the sauce, remaining vegetables, mozzarella, sauce and Parmesan. Cover and bake at 375° for 30-40 minutes or until bubbly. Let stand 15 minutes before serving.

Rice Paper & Other New Things

Lately, I've been doing all sorts of new things. Fun, brand new shiny things that are bringing so much joy to my life. It's really one of the main reasons why I decided to move to Italy - to try new things. Everyone should do this more often (try new things, I mean - not necessarily move to Italy). Before I go any further, I would like to recite a passage from Elizabeth Gilbert's novel Eat, Pray, Love, in which she tries meditation for the first time:

"I walked home that night feeling like the air could move through me, like I was clean linen fluttering 

on a clothesline, like New York itself had become a city made of rice paper--and I

was light enough to run across every rooftop."

That is how I feel upon trying something new and invigorating. As though I can jump across rooftops and walk through the entire city as if it were made of rice paper. Tomorrow morning, I'm visiting the National Museum of Rome with my friend Erika. Neither of us have been inside the gallery, and since it's Culture Week, we both want to take advantage of the free museums and monuments. In the afternoon, I arranged to go horseback riding in Villa Borghese, the famous heart-shaped park in Rome. Yes - horseback riding! My Italian friend Stefano told me that his family owns a stable and that I can go riding if I like. All I have to do is talk to his uncle Tomaso, tell him who I am, and bravo. I will be riding a horse in Italy at sunset, with the wind blowing through my hair and the smell of manure in the air. What's not to love, right?
I've also been seriously devoted to learning how to cook new foods. Anyway, the 

Filipino chef and I have been collaborating together in the kitchen and frying up new dishes. Even she is learning new things! We found this fantastic cooking show that is hosted in Rome that plays on the TV before noon. Since my understanding of Italian has improved so much, I can actually catch on to what they're saying. And when I don't, Yaya is there to translate. Yesterday, I made Japanese styled rice with cubed carrots, snow peas, and egg. Yaya and I were feeling adventurous, so we also threw in this suspicious looking spice that was in the cupboard. Suspicious it appeared indeed, but what a pan! It turned out tasting a bit like Indian curry, but with more of a... I don't know... Pizazz? Kick? Whatever - it was amazing.
I was feeling so alive today, that after my friend Kelsey went home from our very overdue

hangout, I decided to look up some new yoga moves on youtube. Unfortunately for me, I didn't steal any of my mom's yoga DVDs before I left in September, which means that I've had to stick to the moves I knew prior to September. You might really surprise yourself and learn something new. The worst thing that could happen is trying something, and then simply not liking it. But if you're not a natural risk taker, take baby steps. My risk taking went from switching up my usual Italian dressing to Chipotle at Subway to moving halfway across the world entirely alone. And you know what? Italian dressing has nothing on Chipotle.
I'm not suggesting that you conquer your fear of heights by climbing Mount Everest, but... well... actually, I am. Because what do you have to lose? As sad as it is true, I am not a cat, and I don't have nine lives. I have one, and I don't want to waste it away. Trying new things is a part of life, because if you don't, how can you expect to grow? It isn't possible to evolve as a human being if one does not hangout with new people, move to a new city, or try new food at any point in life. If you're not sure where to begin, I compiled a list of 10 things that any person can do to add some spice to your life.
1. Grab a cookbook off the shelf, close your eyes, and flip to a random page. Make whatever you land on, even if it looks complicated.
2. Try thyme. It's a kind of spice that is best grown in Palestine and is a green shade that you can find in any authentic supermarket, Healthy Cupboard, or Ten Thousand Villages. Get three plates and fill one plate with olive oil, another with slices of bread, and the other with thyme. Dip the bread in olive oil and then in the thyme so that it sticks to the bread. Pop it in your mouth and your taste buds will thank you.

3. Do something physically challenging, whether you try a new sport or a complicated yoga 

position (downward dog does not count as complicated).
4. Go to the bookstore and pick up a novel where you haven't heard of the title or author. 
5. Buy the game Table Topics and invite some friends over. The questions will not only allow you to learn about your guests, but you'll also learn something new about yourself.

6. Make something out of nothing. Start a flower garden in your backyard, learn to sew with forgotten pieces of fabric, etc.
7. You know that one person who you know you'd totally click with, but haven't had a reasonable excuse to hangout with? Invite him/her on a friend date.
8. Check out a band in your area. My new favourite is The Years, which is a band from my hometown who just released an album called Red Wine & Clarity. You can download it for free at www.theyearsband.com. My personal favourite song is Ghosts of Men.
9. Join some kind of organization that meets once a week/month. My suggestions are a Book Club or Zumba Class.
10. Wear socks that don't match. Skip your morning vitamin. Put an extra cube of sugar in your coffee - baby steps, people. Baby steps.

Kudos for trying new things and loving them.